


My Sin's Not Quite Seven

by scottie994



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottie994/pseuds/scottie994
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Envy, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Wrath, Pride and Sloth - HitsuKarin style. One-Shot</p><p>Titled After (Lyrics From) - Lust - The Raveonettes</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Sin's Not Quite Seven

 

 

_envy; lust_

 

Running water - that's what Karin heard when she woke up that morning, and with near-instant regard of the vacant left side of the bed, she deemed he had woken up before her.

As usual.

Heaving a sleepy sigh, she rolled off the mattress and got to her feet, rubbing her groggy eyes all the while. Cool air nipped her barely concealed skin, as she was only clad in undergarments she'd brought from the Living World, and with a sudden spell of shivers, she hugged herself for self-indulgent heat whilst her eyes scanned the clothing scattered floor - courtesy of previous night's events - searching for her kimono.

At first sight of a black garb, she strode towards it and bent over, making to pick it up. But instead of grasping the ashy cloth, her hand met soft teal coloured fabric. Straightening up once more, she shook the long, perfectly ragged scarf out and eyed it intently - desirably.

It started several months prior to the present time, five years after he'd acquired such an accessory, when she began harboring the urge to obtain it, to steal it from her ivory-haired suitor and have it as her own. And now, as she held it in her very hand, feeling the velvety texture and smelling the prime fragrance, she didn't want to let it go.

Sure, she had repeatedly attempted to steal it from him ever since her infatuation began, constantly scheming for inconspicuous ways to extract it from his person - not that any had ever panned out - but she'd never actually _felt_  it.

At least, not as  _thoroughly_  as she was now.

It was truly wondrous, a must-have appendage, and without full comprehension of what she was doing, she'd wrapped it around her neck, letting the ends hang down languidly to her midriff, an appeased smile playing her lips.

Then, before she knew it, she was twirling around, dancing to music only heard by her, the teal tendrils billowing about in a happy manner.

And she was completely unaware of familiar turquoise eyes staring at her not three feet away.

Loitering in the entryway, between the bathroom and the bedroom, Toshiro crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe, an insuppressible smirk meeting his lips as he watched her.

After only a minute or two of observing her lovable antics, however, it morphed into that of a drool-worthy, lopsided grin. Perhaps it was illicit of him to be yearning for her in such a way, not even a full seven hours following such physical exploits, but as he let his eyes roam her milky skin, teal depths gleaming appreciatively at how her subtle assets protruded and bounced with every graceful move, he felt himself being pulled to her - like a magnet, and he wasn't about to deny his carnal urges.

"Someone's chipper this morning." he accosted lamely, approaching her at a leisurely pace, and with a stiffened posture of embarrassment, she swivelled to face him.

"Er. ." Her cheeks tinged. "Morning. . ?" she returned with a timid chuckle, reflexively scratching the back of her head. Why it came out quizzically, she couldn't fathom, but the way he was looking at her, as if he was a lion and she was his prey, was causing less than coherent brainwork.

"So, you've finally managed to steal it from me. . ." he remarked in an all-knowing tone, frisking the scarf with his fingers, "And I wonder why I don't have nice things."

Flushing a deeper shade of pink, she averted her gaze to a different source of brilliant teal, "Sorry. ." she murmured sheepishly, mimicking his act, "It's just so. . ."

"Soft?"

She nodded. "But here," she made to remove it, "probably best to take it back now before-" her words hitched as he placed his hands on hers, halting her movements.

"Keep it," he requested softly, "it looks good on you."

Her eyes brightened, "Really?"

He hummed with reassurance. "Although," Raking his fingers through her hair, he let his hand trail along her neck and down her back, discreetly drawing her closer, "I know what'll look even better on you. . ."

In a spell of naivety, she inquired: "What?"

A suggestive smirk played his lips, "Me."

 

_gluttony; greed_

After a mere five minutes of observing her, it became apparent to the tenth's captain that he'd been  _vastly_  misguided to think that a 'picnic' was a romantic, calming, and overall lovely event.

No, contrary to what circulates about the sentimentally stricken couples and what's advertised in the magazines Matsumoto collects from the Living World,  _'picnics'_  - at least with this particular girl - were anything but refined.

Perhaps she was spending too much time with Madarame, he mused, and not enough time with Ayasegawa, and as a result, she'd taken after the relatively 'barbaric' manners of the former, rather than the self-proclaimed 'beautiful' ways of the latter.

Damn that rapacious division and it's influence.

He'd long since given up trying to salvage any wholesome cuisine, and instead, had spent the better part of their little outing straining not to spew every bit of watermelon he'd consumed - as it had been the only source of nutrient he'd managed to save for himself - whilst his gaze repeatedly, in spite of him, fell victim to her savage-esque display of eating.

He'd even go so far as to say that this was the first time, in all the years they'd been together, that he  _wasn't_  fantasizing about kissing those lips, of which were currently sporting various remnants of diverse nourishment, or dominating that body, of which was clad in a now food-stained kimono, and in lieu of such contrariety, he found himself nearly recoiling from his beloved girlfriend.

Such a notion did a complete 180, however, when she, having devoured the feast he'd spent all morning preparing, made an absentminded advance towards his last slice of fruit, and with a sudden spur of possessiveness, he snatched it almost right from her fingertips.

Broad obsidian met adamant teal.

"Hey!" Karin exclaimed irritably, rising to her knees and lunging at him - or rather, the delicious piece of pome he was keeping far out of her reach, "I was just about to eat that!"

"Over my dead body." Toshiro refuted melodramatically, unyielding to her desperate, gourmand advances as he worked his free hand to keep her at bay, "This is all mine."

Face scrunching up into an indignant scowl, she deflected his means of restraint and tackled him to the ground. "Give it!" she demanded childishly, straddling him with her legs as she strived for the heavenly watermelon.

However, due to his overruling height and lengthy arms, he was successful in thwarting her attempts, and not a minute later, Karin found herself on her back, her gaze finding that last chunk of juicy, red fruit just as it came in contact with his edacious lips, and with another surge of reckless appetence, she knocked him back on the grassy plain once more, falling flush against him as she strived yet again to obtain that damned sustenance.

"You're being ridiculous." he choked out in his struggle; no way in hell was she taking this from him.

Face scrunching further, she grunted, "You're being ridiculous," she mocked agitatedly, " _greedy bastard_."

He just laughed with ridicule, expression incredulous, and in yet another instance of supremacy, he'd rolled her over, the light breeze whipping at his hair as he quickly demolished the sought after fruit right before her very eyes, leaving nothing but the emerald scrap of it's outer-edge for her to, instantly, sulk over.

"Suppose that's it for that." Toshiro concluded bluntly, meeting her resentful glower with a pretentious gleam, "And it was even more delicious than I dreamed."

Her scowl deepened, "You're the worst boyfriend ever."

"Aw," Unaffected by her rather common remark, he merely smirked, triumphantly, and boldly leaned down, "I love you too, Karin."

Glare magnifying with murderous intent, she slapped a hand to his cheek and pushed him off to the side. The warm chuckle such an act received only heightened her rage, but instead of acting on her irrefutable urge to beat him to a bloody pulp - a purely over-exaggerated notion, she'd conclude later on - she sprung to her feet and stalked off, proceeding to take her anger out on an unsuspecting lower rank back at the barracks.

"Have fun sleeping on the couch." she shot back not a moment later, tone and declaration as firm as the fists clenched at her sides, and soon disappeared from sight, leaving her  _frequently_  beloved boyfriend alone on the field, propped up on his elbows and, once again, impervious to the prevalent phrase.

"It was worth it."

 

 

_wrath; pride_

 

"You sure about this, Renji?"

Heaving a faintly exasperated sigh, "For the thousandth time, yes." The redhead gruffly assured his fellow tattooed shinigami. "They're just sparring, Hisagi, so stop worrying so much and place your bet."

Scowling, the punk-esque lieutenant crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chin, morale in regards to this particular wager blatant in both demeanor and tone as he replied, "I'll have no part in it."

No effort put into stifling a scoff, the sixth's lieutenant rolled his eyes and turned to his other two companions, "What about you guys?"

"I'm in." The bald man was prompt to declare, his grin so manic you'd swear he was related to his Captain. "No way in hell am I passing up the chance to knock that frosty midget down a few pegs."

Renji chuckled, "Alright, alright. How about you, Yumichika?"

"Oh, I don't know. . ." The feathered man contemplated, stroking his bare chin with his thumb and forefinger, "I have no doubt that our lovely fifth seat would succeed, but I can't see it ending pretty. . ."

" _Pffft._  Come on," Renji prodded, "It's two little lovebirds demonstrating the art of sword fighting to the graduating class - what's more beautiful than that?"

"Hmm, I suppose you're right." Yumichika concurred rather quickly, "Okay, I'm in."

Once the three scheming men had settled their stakes, Renji folded his arms behind his head and proceeded towards a certain ravenhead, who was in the midst of fixing her long dark hair into a ponytail.

"Hey pipsqueak." he accosted casually, halting within spitting distance of the young Kurosaki girl.

She cast him a grin, "Hey pineapple. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing really," he vouched, "The guys and I just wanted to wish ya luck, that's all." She merely beamed in response, giving no spoken answer as she checked her bearings, and with a broadened smirk of mischief, he carried out his ulterior motive, "I mean, from what Hitsugaya was sayin' earlier, you need all the luck you can get."

At that, Karin's brow creased, and she craned her neck to regard the redhead once more, "What d'you mean?"

He shrugged, feigning ignorance, "Just that he seemed  _pretty_  confident he'd come out the victor today." The sudden hardening of her dark eyes verified his success. "Apparently, he doesn't think you're strong enough to take him. Even requested a different opponent 'cause he was worried he'd hurt you."

Her jaw clenched, features twisting indignantly.

"Pretty arrogant of him," Renji continued airily, "we thought; not even having faith in his own girlfriend. . . But then again, like he said this morning, you are new to the game, so it's only natural you'd come up short against a skilled Captain such as himself."

Letting out a friendly chuckle to mask his dire amusement, he placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing the small appendage in a supportive manner, "Just know this, Karin: it's  _okay_  if you don't win." Her glare magnified. "It's just a demonstration, after all, and none of us wanna see you get hurt."

Satisfied with the speechless glower he'd incited, Renji turned on his heel, "Do your best, pipsqueak."

A smirk played his lips as her anger radiated throughout the grounds.

"So?" Ikkaku pressed once the redhead was within whispering distance, "Did it work?"

"Oh yeah," Renji affirmed, feeling absolutely no guilt in regards to deceiving the temperamental girl. "Our ruthless midget's gonna own that bastard."

 

.

.

.

It hadn't taken long for Toshiro to perceive her malevolent mood, as it was a fairly familiar disposition of her's, yet, he was still quite lost in regards to  _why_. She'd been completely fine two hours ago; at least she  _seemed_  fine when he left her at the eleventh's barracks. But now, it appeared she'd been possessed by a being of ruthless valor, such attitude projected with every impassioned lunge of her zanpakuto and the rather daunting, unwavering glare she was currently subjecting him to.

She'd even managed to snip a lock of alabaster hair from his head. Although, he had a sound feeling that hadn't been her target; she was being just a  _little_  excessive.

Taking the too-close-for-comfort reunion of their sleek blades as an opportunity, he practically hissed, "What the hell are you doing, Karin?"

Lips quirking with blatant acrimony, Karin drew back, guard unmitigated as she circled him, zanpakuto at the ready. Her words came out in a surprisingly calm and rather nonchalant tone, "Exactly what Kyoraku asked of us," she vouched, enough presence of mind to keep her voice low, " _Hitsugaya_."

She used his last name; she was  _definitely_  pissed at him for something.

"Really," he jeered, teal gaze never once straying from her as he followed the rhythm of her steps, own zanpakuto drawn in preparation, "'cause it seems to me that you've come down with another 'unreasonably-angry-at-Toshiro' spell and you're using this  _friendly_  demonstration to vent it."

A chuckle escaped her, "You've got it all wrong, Toshi'." She drew her sword against his once again, the  _clang_  of metal meeting metal echoing. "I'm just showing our new comrades how to deal with pretentious Captains," she declared, her smirk falling short on the sweet scale, "Rather beneficial around here, don't you think?"

Oh, so  _that's_  how it is.

Mirroring her visage, he deflected her sword, sending her back a step in the process, and as his features gleamed with such proclaimed 'pretension', he secretly praised the ruling that disallowed the use of shikai, hakuda and kido from this particular event, 'cause he'd surely be knocked down a few pegs otherwise.

Her sword skills, however brilliant they may be, he could handle; he wasn't about to willingly lose to a fifth ranking officer in front of all these people, no matter what relations said fifth seat may be to him. And, if she was going to turn this into a lover's dispute, then he was going to follow suit the same way he always did: he was going to end it without even breaching the topic, uncaring to the witnesses.

There was certainly a change in his disposition within that moment, Karin noted. Even with his ever present impassive facet, he was sporting a faint, almost mischievous smile, and she got a twisted feeling that, given the stronger projection of power he was administering as his blade continued to clash with her's, gradually overpowering her, she may have struck one nerve too many.

Sure, she could hold her own anytime, anywhere - it was a renowned fact. But at the current time, as she scrutinized that strangely familiar expression of his, attempting to decipher the true meaning behind it, one she felt she knew so well already, she found herself lacking in combat, not even heeding such a matter until her back met the hard concrete wall that surrounded them, and her sweat dropped.

Beneath his unreadable gaze and between his body, blade, and that damned barricade, she found herself fumbling, her grip on the hilt of her katana wavering as her blade unnecessarily struggled to keep his at bay.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she spat, masking her bruised ego ineffectively.

A sudden glint broke through the indecipherable glaze in his eyes, his tone rather lewd as he replied, "'Just showing our new comrades how to deal with temperamental girlfriends."

Brow creasing, she scowled, "Excuse-' The almost immediate crushing of his lips to hers shoved the remaining words back down her throat, being replaced with an abrupt and quite delighted flutter in her chest, any notion of anger cast to, temporary, oblivion.

 _Damn him_ , was her last indignant thought before the dimming of her mind occurred, and she let her zanpakuto fall simultaneously with his to the ground below them, yielding to his advance with little to no refute. She arched into his touch as he encircled her waist, eagerly drawing her closer; he coerced her lips to move more sensually with his as she wrapped her arms around his neck, aggressively fisting his hair, and neither of them paid any mind to their appalled spectators, nor their personal misgivings towards PDA.

"Well. . ." Ikkaku drawled from afar, scratching his shiny bald head as he and his three companions fell in with the gawking crowd, "that was unexpected."

"Oh!" Yumichika practically sang, clasping his hands together in delight, "It's beautiful!"

Renji and Ikkaku shared a collective eye-roll. "So. ." the redhead scratched his temple in sudden befuddlement, "Who wins the bet?"

Confusion befell the three gamblers, and Hisagi heaved a sigh, shaking his head as he proceeded towards his office once more, his tone as belittling as ever, "You all bet against Hitsugaya," he reminded flatly, and it was obvious, without even looking at them, they'd only just realized it. " _Idiots_."

 

 

_sloth_

Something was off about him today, Matsumoto mused. Sure, he  _looked_  normal; alabaster hair perfectly dishevelled, shihakusho and haori settled on his person to an impeccable degree - all those aspects that to others are seen as  _attractive_ , whereas to her, are regarded as  _adorable,_  intact. But there was a diverse manner in his actions, so languid, and in his eyes, so dim, glazed over with heavy eyelids, and it almost had her thinking he was _sleepy_.

It wasn't a ridiculous notion, per say, however, it was unusual for her captain. He was always so prompt, not exactly  _lively_ , but he was never ever  _sluggish_. At least not to this extent. And now, as she watched him fill out his paperwork, peering over her own abundant pile to do so, she noted that he'd been writing the same report for the past, estimated, ten minutes, and it gave her a maternal sense just to tuck him into bed with the promise that she'd handle everything and make it all better.

That would never happen, of course, given her utmost dismay to paperwork as it is, only more so to  _extra_ , and for the fact that he'd completely reject such mother-esque attention, but it was a nice thought in the hypothetical sense.

So instead, she simply sat there, at her desk adjacent to his, sending periodic glances his way for any sign of mood change. And eventually, he rose from his chair, rather wearily, and cast her a half-hearted look, "I'm finished for the day."

She blinked, surprised, "Er. . ." Recovering from shock not a second later, she summoned her cheery grin once more and cast him a jovial wave as he departed, "Okay! See you later, Taicho!"

 

.

.

.

He didn't recall his personal quarters being so far away. It  _wasn't_ , a more coherent version of himself would've noted, as his office and home were located in the same area, tenth's barracks as they've been for decades, but at the current time, in his current state - one he wasn't exactly heeding at the moment - it felt like an eternity had passed before he'd finally arrived at his door.

Subjecting the barren entryway to an exasperated yawn, he proceeded towards the bedroom, undressing himself to the point of mere hakamas all the while.

He abruptly halted beside the bed, however, forced to blink some of the haze from his eyes to regard the scene, and a faint sense of surprise befell him.

With the curtains drawn, clearly out of laziness in regards to closing them, she was completely exposed in the natural light soaking the room, and man, did she look beautiful. That wasn't what shocked him though, as it was a gratifying aspect he'd effortlessly adapted to, but rather, that she was  _here_. Karin, being who she was, had never been one to miss a day of work, let alone leave work early, yet here she was, back in the violet kimono she never failed to sleep in, all curled up in their bed, sound asleep - save for those adorable little snores that unconsciously escaped her.

A genuine smile painted his groggy features within the moment of seeing her, and with pure stealth, despite his sluggish condition, he crept onto the mattress, settling himself down beside her.

However, alert as always, at least to some extent, her dark eyes fluttered open not two seconds later, and she regarded his sudden presence with a smile, cheeks tinging a gleeful pink. But she said nothing. No spoken greeting, no sign of shock, just a mere beam and an immediate snuggle, her slender limbs reflexively entwining their bodies.

And with that, two of the most ambitious shinigamis in all the Seireitei fell asleep together - before noon.

 


End file.
